Narcissus by the Pond

The thunder was drowned out by the black waves above me, but the white lighting I couldn't unsee.

It’s always brightest before the darkest storm. Or so Mama would say whenever Aunt Julia wrote back to us small and simple folk in the country. The summer I left the fields for the first time, I had just finished reading all about her being swept away by another true love off the sidewalk of some other big city. This one had been walking the eternal streets of Rome when Cupid made a fool of them both.

“Love makes fools of us all,” Remus Dandini offered me a taste of the smile that an enamored man reserved for his beloved. He seemed to me of the highest breed, with full red lips to wrap around words that kissed the ears of poor farm boys like myself. When he spoke, however, the sound of him was as familiar to me as that of my plain and poor playmates. “Just look at this utter fool clinging to my arm!”

“Enough teasing, Remus!” Julia giggled, a girl as foolish as she was beloved. “Tell Mariano the good news!”

If only Mama could see the sparkling in her sister’s eyes. So bright it was, it dimmed the diamond around her finger! After so many loves lost, she was engaged to be married at last! At last she had dusted off the dirt on the family farm and perched a fashionable feather hat on her chopped curls! She had been mourning and meek during the funeral, forgetting to bring up the good news to me. The wedding invitation that arrived a month later was filled with jubilation.

“We’re getting married on the Dandini estate.”

“The good news won’t stop coming.” I dusted off my Sunday coat, a failed attempt at making myself seem more of a gentleman than a farmboy.

Mama, do not damn me for joining Remus at the barber’s, the tailor’s and even his rented apartment in the city. Aunt Julia wanted her nephew to be the most handsome young man at the wedding, second only to her husband-to-be.

“You two look like brothers,” she gasped a little too loudly.

I averted my eyes from the playacting. They turned to Remus who mirrored me, smoothing down his coat. This was a far more captivating performance.

“Two country boys turned gentlemen.” Julia jumped into his embrace.

I couldn’t unsee the striking resemblance, Mama. And I must’ve rubbed my hazy eyes because Remus clarified to me that he was also raised in the fields up North, ripened by the sun. He hopped on a train the moment the tracks were laid.

He worked all day, and dreamed all night, and prayed to God every Sunday for a chance to be chiseled by the city life into a gentleman. God had called upon Mr. Dandini, the steward of the rich and ripe green lands in the South, and had the gentleman take Remus in as a ward.

Mama, you would have loved it here. I would have loved it more if you were here with me to see all the shades of green that sunk into the lake and climbed up the three story mansion. Julia wore green on the evening we arrived there and I know that shade would've made your cheek seem as pink as the rouge looked on hers.

Though, now that I think more deeply about it, you would’ve been opposed to me joining Remus and his gentlemen friends on a hunt on the morning of his bachelor’s party.

“Mariano, you have to talk him out of this madness,” she waved her hands. This pantomime was unrehearsed and her eyes were threatening to tarnish on her expertly applied blush. “His father died crossing that lake. I will not be a widow before I even say my vows before God.”

I went to him, filled with her fear and my own reservations. Remus smiled sadly at me, all red lips. “My father, God rest him, could not swim. She knows this.”

“I do know it,” Julia cried, her rouge coming off on the lapels of his coat. “Come back before dark.”

Remus had soothed both our hearts, kissing Julia’s forehead, then, mine. He promised we would leave early and return before dinner.

The day was brilliant and we spent it drowning in the finest wine I ever tasted. I was baptized in it, so plentiful were Remus’ newly inherited cellars. Holding the bottle over my head he asked me to open my mouth and receive it like you taught me to accept the Lord’s blood inside me. Our time was filled with roaring laughter and light banter, and a couple of failed attempts at hunting. Then the storm came.

It is always brightest before the darkest storm. I remembered your words all too late, Mama. Myself and everyone else forgot the riffles, the food and our hats. We walked on drunk men’s legs onto a darkening dock before tumbling into our boats, all the green of the lake washed out by a grey gathering of clouds.

The youngest of the company, the son of the oldest, was steady enough to row. Meanwhile, I moved as carefully as I could, being younger and more eager to return to the mansion than Remus, and was forced to take the lead. I slung his arm over my shoulders and ignored the humid breath that chilled the side of my neck. When I did get him off me, I felt warm all over, and was almost grateful for the cold wind that made the forest howl.

“Mariano, your face is red,” Remus laughed, leaning back into the boat, and rocking it while I did my best to balance the both of us on the raging waters. “As red as a blushing maiden’s.” Rising to sit in front of me, his eyebrows furrowed in a mocking mirror image of my concern.

“It’s the wine.” I paddled against the current and laughed against my wishes. You look as red as Julia’s rouge.”

The laughter warmed me while the rocking lulled me. Our laughter joined and rose above the roaring of the wind. And the chill had all but melted off my spine when he spoke of his father again, this time with the same joy he teased me with.

“My father was as red as a sailor and just as drunk,” he snorted rather ungentlemanly. “He was so drunk, he forgot how to swim.”

“Remus.” I stopped rowing. “Your father knew how to swim?”

“Not while drunk,” he shook his head, blinking at me with watery eyes.

“You told me you were the only one between the two of you who could swim.”

“Did I?” he laughed then, dry and devoid of all mirth. “Or are you just too drunk to remember?”

I swallowed the bile burning my throat. All that wine he poured for me was far from holy. And the coals of Hell burned in my belly as he grabbed my left shoulder, then my right.

“You’re drunk enough to forget all of this.” Our foreheads melted into each other, sticking together with sweat. Then his nose slid against mine and, at last, his full red lips breathed into me the lie I would have to repeat: “Unlike the dead man, you know how to swim. You’re like me. You’re a dreamer. And we can pretend this was all a dream.”

Mama, I swallowed those words as easy as I swallowed the wine. Then, finally, fatally, I kissed him. And those full red lips that have filled me with hopes, dreams and brilliant things poisoned me.

“Promise me,” he spoke into my mouth, dripping more venom. “Mariano, promise me this will be our secret.”

The distant sound of thunder brought me back into my own skin. My perspired and prickling skin. The chills returned along with all my other senses and I was mores sober than I’ve ever been.

“This is your secret,” I shook him off me. “This is your sin.”

I remembered Mama's words all too late. The light in Remus’ face faded and his expression darkened as he forced the oar out of my hand. He stood up tall, then raised it even higher than himself. Before either he or the lighting could strike, the rain whipped the water and the waves knocked our boat over.

Blinded by the lightning, I swam through darkness, broke the surface and emerged into the storm. I couldn't unsee the bright bolt, so the waves guided me ashore. The boat joined me, but Remus and the oars never did. He must’ve forgotten how to swim.

It’s always brightest before the darkest storm. I remembered Mama’s words as she spelled them out to me them from high up in heaven, from the wild side of the black lake. I’ve been a fool. I did not see the gathering of thunderclouds in Remus’ eyes, I only saw how brilliantly I shined inside them.